Ni Hao

Oh my gosh, I am disgusted with myself.  It didn’t even occur to me that I haven’t written in /months/.  How is that possible?  How in the world did I just forget?  I’m a fuddy duddy, let me tell you.

Okay, well, a since September life update, hu?  According to my last post, I was still reading Gone with the Wind.  Finished that, loved it.  I guess that’s about it, I’ll post again soon!

Ha, kidding.

It’s weird to think about the things that had not happened to me in September.  I mean, don’t get me wrong, it’s not like I’ve done all that many exciting things, but it’s still like – oh right, I’ve lived since then.  Strange, really.  One of the biggest things, as my subject line suggests, is that I’m learning Mandarin.  Cool, right?  Why?  Oh, you know, because I’m going to China.  Yeah, spring break.  I’m taking a class where for ten days at the end of March they are shipping us over to China.  You have no idea how FRICKIN EXCITED I AM.  Seriously. Ecstatic.

What else?  Oh yeah, I got a job.  Mmm hmm, internship actually.  I work with Recruitment for Rayovac Remington.  Pretty slick, right?  I’m really enjoying it.  There’s a career fair here next week and I’m totally going to be WORKING at it.  Soo snazzy.

Um, well, Eric is back in Rockford.  You’d think he wasn’t back at all, but he did live here all semester.  He, so far, is coming up every weekend which is really nice.  I can’t wait to see him tomorrow - I really do miss him a lot.  We’re going to see RENT on Sunday and I can barely contain myself.  Last Saturday was his birthday and we went ice skating – I am horrible.  Terrible. Awful.  Six year olds were readily passing me, it was disgusting.

Have you ever tried to just sum up your life?  It’s awful.  I wrote a NaNo novel, as you might expect.  It was trecherous, let me tell you.  But I enjoyed it nonetheless.

I’ve taken to having one-person dance parties now that Eric has left me again, it’s delightful.

Okay, well, now that this has just turned into a silly ramble, I’ll be off.  Maybe I’ll write again before June.

Oh, and I’m still working my way through Gone with the Wind

No one should be surprised when they hear that I did not reach my own deadline of having my memior psuedo-published before school started.  Obviously impossible.  I can never adhere to my own deadlines… now if someone else places it for me, that’s a whole different story.

Anyway, I’m not giving up.  There are mini courses reguarding writing starting up very soon.  I can either do one about writing a memoir (peerrrrfect) or about finishing a novel and getting it sold.  Both incredibly helpful.  But I have to get up the guts to do one.  And probably just one as they run $44 a class. Convince me not to chicken out?

That aside, classes are going well as can be.  It’s nice to only have 13 credits.  The end of my week is quite lazy – one class on Thursday, one on Friday.  Granted I also work 4 hours both days but it’s not like there is studying involved with that.  My student org, BRIDGE, is going well, too.  I have my international buddy, Lin, who is from Thailand.  She’s super nice and the organization itself is fantastic.  We’ve already had three events and planned six more throughout the semester also.  I think I’ll be able to stay busy.

Luff

The hard part is that I am trying to write about a live I no longer have.  It was always my fear as I started this – that all those things that I learned, that I experience, were going to slip away.  It’s true.  I just finished watching the Woody Allen movie “Vicky Cristina Barcelona” – and every once in a while I saw a street that I recognized and not only did I smile and go “I was there!”  but it also occurred to me that it was such a unique place and while I was there I didn’t even think about how tiny the streets were, or what the sidewalks looked like… because when you’re there it all melds together just like it should but when you see snippits it’s hard to overlook just how different it really is.

I don’t know what I mean.  I guess in the long run I am very afraid of losing that part of my life because in many ways I already have.

The business of things

It’s something I’ve learned about in my human resource classes: we’re a generation of encouragement.  We’ve been coddled, been told we’re special, been told we can achieve anything we believe in ever since we were born.  Businesses have to change what they have done for years – in years past so long as you didn’t get a negative comment it was assumed you were doing well, but now if someone doesn’t get a “Thank you,” or a “You’re doing /great/, Susie,” then we feel that we aren’t up to snuff.

But, my question is, what in the world are we complaining about?  Words of encouragement are just about the easiest change we could ever make when it comes to giving people what they want.  If all we request from our employers is an awknowledgement fo a job well done, well, I’d say then we are definitely working toward providing a happy and healthy work environment without upping internal costs as well.

I’m not sure why I am writing this. Admittedly it was spurred from my evaluation after work today – something that I didn’t feel like I needed, but which afterwards made me feel really good.  I had assumed that I was doing a good job because the students seemed to be leaving happy and, since it’s a very supportive work environment, no one had talked to be about doing something incorrectly either.  But when I got statements from my supervisors that said things like, “Ashley is a good example for the new peers,” and “I appreciate that I can trust Ashley in all aspects of her work – she’s on time, always willing to help, and has the ability to connect with students on a professional level,” and “Ashley has the ability to calm students with her easy-going attitude.” – it not only makes me smile, but it also  makes me feel like I am doing a good job – and therefore want to continue to do it.  Also, it made me recognize some of my strengths which I otherwise didn’t notice and – now that I am aware – I feel as though I can enhance them even more.

Anyway, just a little side – funny the things that I think to blog about when I haven’t written anything in ages.

Summer

Update on how I am spending my days… (from greatest amount of time spent to least)

1) Missing Eric
2) Working at SOAR
3) Sleeping
4) Working out (particularly Zumba)
5) Writing a Memoir
6) Reading books
7) Playing Text Twist
8 ) Hanging with Friends

I hope the change the order of those a bit but honestly, it’s not that bad.  Perhaps you’re a bit surprised about the memoir part.  A bit of a change of pace, but I intend to write about my experiences in Barcelona.  I really want to do it all this summer because… well, it just won’t be right if I don’t complete it right away.  I think I can do it, I really do.

Love.

Yes, I realize that the postscript stuff got annoying…. deal with it.

This is an entry that would normally be made in my normal journal, but I carelessly left it in Madison with the rest of my other belongings – obviously forgetting that the tendency for my parents to go to bed around 10 every night (far too early for me) gives me plenty of time to reflect upon my day.  So, welcome to a pretty normal journal entry for me.

It occurred to me today, for the first time in my life, that I actually appreciated being brought up in Rock Springs, Wisconsin.  I honestly NEVER thought I would say that in my life.  I have always, and frankly, still do, abhor this little po-dunk town with its run-down buildings and inhabitants.  But, as I drove in today and, like normal, was unable to make it down Main Street without waving to some neighbor, I realized that growing up in a little town was an experience that could only come from growing up in a little town. I don’t know if I needed to go all the way to Barcelona to realize this, but apparently that’s what set it off. Maybe that doesn’t make sense.  Let me explain.

I realize that I was ony in Barcelona for four months, but it was still four months is a very big city.  Barcelona, I believe, was said to have about 2 million people in it - I am uncertain whether or not that counts the suburbs.  I rode the metro every day, multiple times a day.  I can honestly say that I feel like I have lived in the city - I have felt that lonely feeling in a huge crowd of people.  I have felt that mind-numbing atmosphere of not looking up when someone enters a room or speaks near me.  I have felt the comfort of my commute, of knowing that a sudden jerk on the metro train means nothing, how to open the doors, etc.  I feel like, even in my short time I learned a lot of what city life is, and it wouldn’t have taken long for me to really understands. 

But that’s where a small town differs.  Anyone can integrate into a city – that’s what it is all about.  It’s a bajillion, or two million, people all wandering around the same general area.  Anyone can get sucked in.  It can become, more or less, your home in four months.  But a small town?  Rock Springs is a town of 425 (it used to be 432, but apparently we lost a few in the last census).  I could never, ever feel the way I feel about Rock Springs if I hadn’t grown up here?  Why?  Because everyone here recognizes me.  As much as I hate it, I can’t go into the post office or the gas station without being forced into a conversation, because I know the people who work there.  I can’t drive down the street without waving at a car, because everyone waves whenever they pass another car (even if you can’t see in, it’s assume that you know them in one way or another). 

I don’t know, I’m not really explaining myself well.  I just got this very strong feeling today that a person really has to grow up in a small town to understand what… well, growing up in a small town means.  I learned pretty quickly that because my family isn’t from the neighboring town (where I went to school) that I was an outsider and would never be fully integrated.  I still am not.  It is next to impossible for a person to integrate themselves into a small town if they didn’t spend their childhood there, if for no other reason than the fact that the rest of the citizens won’t allow it.  Now, maybe those who/ grew up in cities would say the same about cities, but I have to disagree. 

Yeah, see, this is why I don’t write these entries on here.  What a discombobulated mess.  Sure makes you wonder what my journals look like, eh?  Ha!

PS – Saw Angels & Demons with my mom today, it was crap, read the book instead and don’t bother with the movie.  Okay, maybe you could borrow the movie from a friend after your friend buys it when it comes out on DVD, but don’t spend money on it.  It follows the plotline pretty closely, but somehow managed to lose all the oomph of the story itself.  As much as I love Tom Hanks, I just don’t think he was the man for the role.

PPS - I am finally moving back to Madison tomorrow.  I was in the apartment today and it just felt so lovely, I didn’t want to leave.  I adore it there, even though my room is an absolute disaster.  We don’t have a mattress, did I mention that?  I really hope we have one tomorrow night.

PPPS – This time next week Eric will be in California and it will be the longest time we have spent apart thus far.  I don’t want him to go.  I don’t want to feel that mindless clock-watching that I went through in Barcelona.  Even though I lived independently and didn’t necessarily /miss/ him every hour of every day, I always felt like every passing moment, minute, day was one step closer.  I felt like everything I was doing was more than anything else a way to “pass the time” until it was all over.  I don’t want my summer to be like that, but, well, so it goes.

PPPPS – That is why I am considering a second job.  I’m applying at the DoubleTree tomorrow, hotel receptionist.  I just hope I wouldn’t be asked to do room cleaning duties during the slow periods.  It’s the only job besides waitressing that I could think of that would want me to work nights and weekends, since I already have my days filled with SOAR.

PPPPPS – Laundry is done.

Leaving

But I haven’t checked PostSecret yet today! Sweet!

I am doing everything that I can think of instead of studying for my exams… ffffml (that’s it!  I’ll read the FML blog!  Hahahaha). Kidding, I did that already recently, I need to study before I do that.

However, a nice blog post is always in order.  Justin and I went to Figueres today to see the Dali Museum.  I was absoutely floored.  It’s actually quite funny how little I knew of Dali.  I knew he liked to paint melted clocks and… that’s about it.  I didn’t know that he was frickin INSANE and, obviously, an absolute genius, and I absolutely love his work.  Holy cow.  I was in awe the whole time and I probably said “Whaaaaa the fuuuuck” about a hundred times.  Heebie jeebies happened on multiple levels.  Ask Justin, he’ll vouch for it. The museum is amazing – apparently he actually designed it himself, since he was famous before he died, and the museum used to be an old house of his.  Brilliant, truly brilliant.  Highly recommend.

That aside, I definitely have a writing bug in me.  I plotted a bit on the bus today and really feel like I have a good avenue of thoughts to go down this summer.  The only thing that might interrupt me is my insatiable urge to read loads and loads of books.  I’m becoming increasingly interested in history, what with all my travels.  We’ll just have to see where the summer takes me.

Exam tomorrow… laaaammeee.  I’ll just look forward to the ice cream that I have already planned to buy afterwards.  Hooray!

I would rather have AIDS than be lactose intolerant, like Maxwell

Pasta, is a really easy thing to forget to chew.  Or, perhaps not even “forget to chew” but just not chew sufficiently.  And then, as you are about to take another bite of course, you get that crazy feeling of your last bite slowly sliding down, through your body and you wonder for a second whether or not you are choking.

This story came from the fact that I love eating completely alone every once in a while.  The psuedo ‘rents went out to eat tonight which means Iate pasta blissfully alone.  Since, when in Barcelona, I have basically never ate alone – whether at supper with the homestay fam, out in a restaurant (with or without friends) I have to be at least slightly mindful of my manners.  But here and now?  Heck no.  I dont cut anything, I just rip and tear and, apparently, I don’t even really chew.

That aside, today was much more successful than I initally thought it would be, which is great.  Being without a phone makes things just… a lot harder.  For example, last night I was supposed to meet some friends at Ovella Negra but I got there about a half hour later than I said I would and they were not there.  Obviously, no one was able to call me, and I figured that the bar was too full.  Though I talked to Laura briefly today and she seemed to indicate that they were there after all so maybe I just missed them?  Unlikely, but possible.

But so, I wasn’t holding out a lot of hopes after last night, so when Justin asked if I wanted to go to a bagel shop I said fo sho.  I then promptly followed him around for the rest of the day, though I don’t *think* he was really trying to shake me.  The weather, unfortunately, wasn’t that great, so our normal idea of just going to the beach was out of the question.  So we passed the time by picking up a few travel books, stopping by TravelBar for a bit, and then we went to the “best place to get horchata” which is a traditional Spanish drink made from tigernuts that I had never had.  It’s actually kind of odd, which is awesome because we bought 1.5 liters of it.  Hahaha.  From there we kind of hit a wall, until it was decided that we wanted to see a movie.  After getting rejected twice, we finally found people (Maxwell and Lauren) who wanted to see a movie with us, but that meant we had to track down a movie theatre that just had Spanish subtitles and wasn’t dubbed since Lauren doesn’t know Spanish.  I am actually really glad we did that though because we went and saw “State of Play” with Russell Crowe and Ben Affleck and it was quite good. 

We can definitely say it was a cultural thing too because there are two noticeable differences about Spanish theatres and US theatres
1) Assigned seats.  Haha, no joke
2) No one talks – we were definitely the only ones who ever talked, or laughed, or gasped, or anything.  But we didn’t get shushed or anything so it was okay.

From there we did our normal TB hang out and then we discovered that Lauren was trying to track down a copy of 1984, which, of the 5 English books that I own, that is one of them.  So she and Maxwell followed me home, where I gave her my book, and then she and he rode off into the night on a pair of stolen Bicings. 

Ahhh, good stuff

So, the last piece of news that I have is that yesterday was Eric and mine’s 5 year anniversary!  It was very weird not being with him.. but we talked as usual and I will be seeing him very soon.

I have an absurdly bad headache.  I think it might be from the movie?  Hmmm

I realize now that this would have made for a great vlog.  Oh wells!

I even told a joke today in Spanish… that was FUNNY!

So, I would really like to take back my statements about being uncomfortable here, in my home stay.  Okay,  maybe not take them away completely because sometimes it is still awkward; but for the past three nights we have had a wonderful supper – all together – and have had great conversations besides.  What’s more, i finally got up the courage to ask if I could leave my stuff here – and stay one extra night – before I go back to the USA and they not only said, of course, but that a special meal was going to be prepared, with my favorite dish and a whole liter of sangria.  How amazing – I almost wish it wasn’t so because this is just going to add to how hard leaving will be.

However, on the flip side of that I got three amazing postcards from my Grandmother today.  One mentioned how worried everyone was when they heard about the earthquake in Italy, because no one was sure if I was affected by it or not.

I’m loved in both places, how funny is that?

I also find it funny how…. I mean, ignorant isn’t the word but it’s the only one that comes to might.  Perhaps shelterd is better? Anyway, sheltered my parents and family are because every time I talk to them they say that they can’t wait for me to come home so I will be “safe and sound” – as if I am living in constant danger somewhere.  Perhaps it is from my learning but it is honestly almost offensive to think that somehow I am more “safe” in Wisconsin than I am here in Barcelona.  Safe from what?  Olive oil poisoning? Shark attacks? Air pollution?  Yeah, definitely.  But am I really safer from people and what people do in Wisconsin vs. Spain?  I d0n’t know.  Spain is an advanced, wonderful, and safe country all on its own and, besides language difficulties, I really am no more endangered here, despite what my family may believe.   Ooooh los estadounidenses